


(i surrender myself to your arms) just hold me tighter

by brassmama



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Sex, Domestic, F/M, I blame this all on myself, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Wyatt Logan is a champion bottom and an excellent house husband, all the sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 14:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15951434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brassmama/pseuds/brassmama
Summary: Wyatt has filthy kitchen sex with his boyfriend and girlfriend.





	(i surrender myself to your arms) just hold me tighter

Between school and military and sudden Time Team business, Wyatt’s life had necessitated he be an early riser. Now, he was typically the last to roll out of bed. Even when he needed to be somewhere, it usually wasn’t earlier than eight he’d wander into the kitchen in search of coffee. On a weekday, it may be just him, reheating whatever is left in the carafe from Lucy’s pre-class routine or whatever Flynn had made before heading into work. Weekends, his boyfriend and girlfriend would lure him out and trick him into delightful talk of paint of furniture for the office or the guest room.

 

Wyatt stared at the mug of lifeblood as it spun around the inside of the microwave, waiting for it to be warm enough to drink. After nights when he hadn’t slept, he **_would_ ** just drink the coffee cold and black, no brain power available for button pushing of any kind. But, he was feeling mostly human today, even managed waffles from the freezer into the toaster. Judging by the forgotten ones Wyatt pulled out beforehand, Flynn had forgotten his breakfast… again.

 

The microwave beeped softly. Wyatt tested the mug handle. A splash of half and half then probably too much sugar later, he was leaning on the counter waiting on the toaster waffles and checking his phone notifications. As he replied to Lucy’s “Good Morning, sleepy head” text, he heard the front door swing open.

 

Once the man entered the kitchen, Wyatt could see that Flynn was wearing sweaty running clothes. Something about the sheen just accentuated his long neck and his general “ready to be climbed like a tree”-ness. Wyatt smiled and drank more of his coffee. He may be more awake and vaguely caffeinated, but word processing was still warming up. And honestly, he just wanted to enjoy the view. No commentary needed when an interested look sufficed.

 

Flynn grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and took a long drink, winking as Wyatt watched his throat. Flynn walked up behind Wyatt and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, “Good morning,” kissing Wyatt’s neck.

 

Wyatt shivered a little then rolled his eyes a bit at the sappiness. Physical intimacy hasn’t been the easiest thing for him, especially in public and sometimes just at all.

Lucy did have a great picture of the three of them at Pride, Flynn and Wyatt kissing over her head, her face captured mid-giggle. But, in the privacy of their home, Wyatt wasn’t one to deny Flynn a cuddle. Or himself, for that matter.

 

Flynn took the mug from Wyatt’s hands, took a big gulp, then grimaced, “I still don’t understand why you don’t just brew a fresh pot. Reheated coffee is disgusting.”

 

Wyatt took back the mug, swigging down the last of his coffee. “If I woke up with enough usable brain cells to do so, I would. I’m lucky if I checked that I’m wearing pants.”

 

Flynn laughed, and it was true. Today Wyatt had blearily pulled on some sleep pants (probably not actually his own) before wandering out of the bedroom. Wyatt had walked himself partway to the kitchen in nothing but a sleepy smile enough times that had they been in the habit of leaving the blinds open, the neighbors might have even more to discuss about “the lovely lady and her **_two_ ** men.” Scandalizing the neighbors the last thing on their minds, Lucy and Flynn found it an adorable excuse to pull him back to bed for sleepy morning sex.

 

Speaking of which, Wyatt could definitely feel Flynn’s hardening dick as they stood there cuddling. Since he’d pretty much just rolled out of bed, sole though for cofee, Wyatt hadn’t really dealt with his morning wood yet and his dick was definitely perking up when long fingers drifted down to grip his hips. Flynn started sucking hickies onto Wyatt’s neck, his bare shoulders, pretty much wherever the man’s lips could reach, even bending down to mark up his biceps.

 

Wyatt bit his lip, leaned into the grip and _oh god_ , what this man did to him. After plenty of bruise starting kisses, Flynn started lightly squeezing and stroking Wyatt’s now nicely hard dick through the sleep pants. “Guh… Garcia… Hnng. Feels good.”

 

It was almost a bit unfair, really. There Wyatt had been, innocently trying to caffeinate up, get his vocabulary back online, and here goes Flynn, rolling back all that effort with a few minutes work. Not that anyone was actually unhappy with how this was playing out, part of Wyatt was just amused.

 

The part that wasn’t deeply distracted and rutting into his boyfriend’s hand right now.

 

“We haven’t even had breakfast.”

 

“We’re just working up an appetite.” Flynn softly bit his earlobe and stroked quicker. Wyatt squirmed in his grip. Flynn pulled him tight against his hard on.

 

“You trying to make a mess in my pants, Garcia?” Wyatt leaned forward, gripping the edge of the counter, knuckles white, “C’mon, more, please.”

 

“Hmm. Always thinking about being dirty. Gonna make you come all over the inside of these pants and it’ll be gorgeous.” _YES, damn yes._

 

“Then… then what are you waiting for. Make me.”

 

“Of course, tigriću.” Flynn released his remaining grip on Wyatt’s hip, pushing the sleep pants down, only exposing his ass, leaving the way clear to rub and prod at his hole. Wyatt jolted, wanting to both push more into those long fingers but wanting to thrust into Flynn’s grip.

 

With a few more strokes, Wyatt **was** coming all over the inside of his pants, riding out the aftermath and slumping back into Flynn’s arms. His fingers twitched against the counter, breathing heavily before turning and kissing his boyfriend and tucking against his chest, reveling in the safety.

 

Flynn was still hard against his hip.

 

He pressed kisses into Wyatt’s hair, “I want to be in you.”

 

“Want you in me.”

 

“There’s no way you’re already hard again.”

 

“Not yet, but not the point. Please, Garcia, I need you.”

 

“Who am I to deny you?” He spun Wyatt back around and bit into his shoulder.

 

By no means the first time they’ve have had sex in the kitchen, Flynn left Wyatt bent over the counter, still catching his breath, for but a moment before returning and setting the tube of lube beside them. Wyatt fumbled to help pull down his now so very soiled pajamas, kicking them away from his feet and setting his stance wider. His thighs were still sticky with cooling come as Flynn slowly worked a lubed finger inside Wyatt.

 

It drove Wyatt and Lucy nuts how careful Flynn was with them. Often the teasing slowness was intentional, meant to have his lovers squirming and needy. But, even now, making sure Wyatt was prepared was more important than the rushing, urgent need to get inside. Garcia Flynn was nothing if not in control of his body. And Wyatt’s, as the situation would have it. Wyatt was looser from orgasm and a bit from the previous night’s athletics, so it wasn’t long until Flynn had three fingers smoothly moving in and out.

 

“Oh, you’re gonna kill me.” Wyatt’s dick tried to twitch in excitement as fingers brushed his prostate, Flynn sporadically scissoring and exploring. “It’ll be fantastic, but I just might die if you don’t get in me soon.”

 

“Well, if you’re so eager…”

 

Flynn used his free hand to _finally_ pull himself out of the running shorts and then spread a fair about of lube on his own dick, all while **still** skillfully working Wyatt open with the other hand. The competency and dexterity were just additional layers to how smoking hot this was, how smoking hot Garcia Flynn was.

 

The transition, for all the lead up and foreplay, moved quickly. Flynn pulled his fingers out, lined up, and sank into Wyatt with a firm, careful push. He bottomed out and held Wyatt close for a beat, two, allowing time for them both to adjust. Another nip at Wyatt’s neck and Flynn set a steady, but increasing pace.

 

Before they’d had their own place, Wyatt would be more concerned with how loud he was being. He used to be very good at covering his mouth when he screamed and gasped, out of respect for close quarters and a bit out of embarrassment. But not anymore, it seemed. He writhed and let out long, huge, soaring moans as he pushed back onto Flynn. A particularly hard thrust reduced him to a shrill yelp.

 

Which, of course, was when Lucy got home from her early class. Wyatt heard her keys clattering on the coffee table, heels clacking across the hardwood toward the kitchen. Toward her boyfriends fucking each other’s brains out.

 

Wyatt imagined in his mind’s eye how they were about to be discovered, how filthy he must look with his sticky thighs, now sweaty and quickly becoming hard again. His hair was still sleep mussed and red marks showed where he’d have purple bruises later today. He looked at Lucy as she made it to the entry to the kitchen.

 

She leaned into the arcway, soaking in the scene. Her eyes flared, already decided what she wanted from her men.

 

“Oh, boys. Having fun without me?”

 

Flynn thrusted in and then stopped, nearly fully sheathed inside Wyatt, who moaned and tried to fuck himself off and back onto his boyfriend’s dick. The grip on his hips had returned, added to how he was a pinned against the cabinets. He wasn’t moving until Flynn, and of course Lucy, decided he was.

 

“Not if you want to jump in, _cher_. There’s always room for you.” Flynn and Lucy leaned together and kissed, which again, so unfair.

 

Lucy pulled back and brushed fingers through Flynn’s hair, and then Wyatt’s, smoothing it out, “Hmm, I do think I do.”

 

She hopped up onto the counter, positioning Wyatt between her legs, pulling her skirt up in the front and revealing soft colored panties. She pulled Wyatt’s head toward her, fingers still in his hair, and spread her legs.

 

“I’m sure you know what to do.” She pulled on his hair with the same energy one might command a horse into motion.

 

Wyatt started licking, helping her soak the front of her panties. At the same time, Flynn returned to fucking into him, this time with a glacially slower pace, always ready to show how in control he was. The thrusts were almost more there to remind Wyatt that they were linked, rather than to get either of them closer to orgasm. Lucy was pushing herself into Wyatt’s mouth, head thrown back and shouting her appreciation. Flynn leaned in and kissed and bit at Lucy’s exposed neck. She and Wyatt would match by dinner.

 

Wyatt closed his eyes, imagining the scene they painted, letting the image fuel the heat low in his stomach. Flynn in a soaked running shirt and baggy running shorts only partly pulled down. Lucy still completely dressed, skirt half falling over him. And in the middle, their house boyfriend, completely fucking naked. Wyatt pushed back onto Flynn and sucked on Lucy through her underwear.

 

“Garcia, he’s so good. He wants us so bad. Ah!” Wyatt pulled back just enough to nip the inside of her thigh, thank her for the praise, reaching up to pull down the panties. She gripped his hair tighter, squealing when he then hitched one of her legs over his shoulder, “Wyatt!” she shrieked.

 

He sucked lightly on Lucy’s clit before diving into her, adding a finger alongside his tongue. Flynn kissed her more, swallowing her moans and letting go of half his grip to run his fingers through her hair. Wyatt could feel the muscles in her thighs tense against his cheeks.

 

“I want you in me. I want more.” she gasped.

 

Wyatt bit into her thigh again before kissing the same spot, then the inside of her knee, straightening up to kiss her neck.

 

“Yeah?” he spoke into her ear, gulping as he felt the change of position, biting his lip as Flynn started to lose his rhythm. The men were both close, possibly too close.

 

“Yes!”

 

Wyatt sloppily opened Lucy up before pushing into her warm folds. He didn’t want to finish before giving her what she wanted, demanded. Flynn’s thrusts pushed him deeper into Lucy. She pulled them both toward her as best she could, gasping into Wyatt’s neck and gripping Flynn’s shoulder where she could reach, red nails marking his skin.

 

Lucy bit into the joining of Wyatt’s neck and shoulder as she came. Flynn stuttered his pace, wrapping his long arms tightly around Wyatt’s middle as they both climaxed around Wyatt, pushing and pulling him into his second orgasm.

 

For long minutes, the three of them just leaned into each other and caught their breath.

 

Then the doorbell rang.

 

Flynn’s phone started ringing from the bedroom.

 

Lucy flopped her head against Wyatt’s shoulder. “Whoever that fucking is can at least wait until we’ve finished our afterglow.” Flynn grumbled something vaguely affirmative.

 

Give it another two minutes and both Wyatt’s lovers would be rushing to see what required their attentions, but this moment, stolen on a busy morning, was enough for him.

**Author's Note:**

> An alternate title for this is"In front of my salad, adventures in porn with accidental world building"
> 
> Flogan gives me life, but it seems so much fuller (lol) with Lucy involved. I do hope everyone else likes the domestic set dressing, cuz dammit I just want the to be happy and have gossipy neighbors.
> 
> Thank you to the amazing, fantastic, phenomenal madsthenerdygirl who 1) is a dirty enabler, 2) turned me onto this trash ot3, and 3) gave this porn a look over and assured me that, unlike our beloved ot3 and Wyatt Logan specifically, it wasn't garbage.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading my first (I think) published porn.
> 
> Title from "Will I Find My Home" by Through Juniper Vale


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